


My Big Baby

by thegreatficmaster



Series: Supernatural Collection [88]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cutesy, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 02:40:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20268661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatficmaster/pseuds/thegreatficmaster
Summary: Dean needs to be taken care of. But sometimes, he doesn’t like asking for help.





	My Big Baby

Two days of torture with Dean.

The moron had decided he’d break an arm and sprain a wrist on the last hunt.

Of course, before even more bones could be broken, you’d shot the damn ghost, while Sam burnt the shitty necklace it had latched itself onto.

Helping Dean up, you called Cas’ cell phone, but he was busy. 

Way too busy, looking for Lucifer. 

This naturally meant most of the time, he ended up arriving a few days late, unless he knew for a fact that it was an emergency, at which point he’d drive back right away.

Unfortunately for you, in Cas’ opinion, this wasn’t an emergency. 

Despite Dean yelling that he was dying, Cas refused to drive back, stating Dean could just rest and heal in hospital.

You knew he was being all melodramatic. 

But you still wished Chuck had healed Cas’ wings instead of the goddamn Devil’s wings. 

That way you wouldn’t have had to deal with Dean acting like a damn child over a broken arm and a sprained wrist.

Sam was on his last nerve. 

He loved his brother, but he told you that the constant whining and desperate need for attention and love was pissing him off.

So he left for the day, leaving you all alone with Dean.

You love the man. Lord knows you do. 

He’s Dean Winchester. 

The one person you’ve always been able to count on. 

The one person who’s loved you completely and never given up on you. And you’ve done the same for him.

But there’s only so much a person can take.

His moaning had made you escape to the kitchen for almost an hour, before you joined him back in the bedroom.

He was propped up on the bed, pillows supporting him as he watched some shitty reruns of Dr Sexy, M.D.

You rolled your eyes at his predictability, walking over to the bed and climbing on, kissing his temple lightly, before settling in beside him.

“Sorry”, he muttered, looking at you and smiling lightly.

“For what?”

“For being all mopey. I know it’s just a broken arm and a sprained wrist. I’ve died so many times. I’ve been through so much worse than this. But, I’ve never really been…useless, before”.

You shifted closer, careful not to hurt him and placed a hand on his head, running your hands through his soft hair, knowing it seemed to calm him down.

“You’re not useless, Dean. I’m just…not used to taking care of people like this. Bandages? Stitches? Cleaning up cuts? That I can do. Running around all day? Cooking and tending to every single thing you could need? I’ve never had to do that before. But, it’s not a burden. You’re not a burden. I just need to learn how to do it, that’s all. Besides, you’ve taken care of me for-what- over a decade? I’m pretty sure I can do the same for you”.

He closed his eyes as you kept scratching at his head lightly, coming to rest his head on your shoulder, his face buried in your neck.

He placed a soft kiss there, before settling in his position, tired and needing some sleep.

You held onto him, changing the channel to a different show, while making sure Dean would get some rest.

He woke up a few hours later, your eyes still glued to the TV screen.

Fuck, he needed to go to the toilet.

He moved off your body, your head turning to watch him walk to the door.

“You ok, Deanie?”

He nodded, walking out without a word.

You shrugged, going back to watching your show.

A few minutes passed, but you just assumed he was sick of being in the same room for a few days, wanting to be in another part of the bunker.

You didn’t really think much of it, until you realized it’d been almost half an hour and Dean wasn’t back yet.

Groaning, you unwrapped yourself from the warm blanket and stepped out into the cold bunker.

Padding down the hallway, you figured he’d either be in the kitchen, or the library.

He wasn’t in any.

Your next stop was the garage, probably spending a bit of time with his beloved Baby, seeing as he hadn’t been able to drive her in almost a week.

Once again, not there.

You racked your brain as you walked through the bunker, wondering where he could be, when you stumbled upon the bathroom, the door closed, but the light shining through the bottom of the door.

Knocking hesitantly, you called out for Dean, but no one answered.

“Dean? You in there?”

There was still no response.

Turning the handle, the door seemed to be unlocked.

You pushed it open, expecting no one to be in here, figuring Sam probably left the light on. 

But there he was. 

Your Dean. 

Sat on the toilet. 

The smell of shit in the air.

You grimaced, covering your nose with your hoodie, not that it helped all that much.

“Dean? You ok?”

He looked up at you, looking completely defeated.

You instantly realized what had happened.

“You could’ve just yelled for me, y'know?” you said, flushing the toilet and collecting a bunch of toilet roll, before folding it up.

“I…it’s embarrassing”, he mumbled, looking anywhere but at you.

You were so confused right now.

“What’s embarrassing, cutie?”

He began blushing, always so modest when it came to your nicknames for him. 

Cutie. Sweetie. Sexpot. 

They always made him blush, when it was you saying them.

He mumbled something under his breath, talking fast, which meant you didn’t exactly hear him.

“Say that again”.

He let out a sigh, looking at his bare knees and scratching them lightly.

“I don’t want you to see me…like this. You shouldn’t have to clean me up. That’s…that’s just embarrassing. I should be able to do this myself. I’m not a fucking child!”

You could tell he was frustrated as his words grew louder and louder, but Dean Winchester didn’t scare you.

Sure, he was _the_ Dean Winchester. 

The one monsters feared. 

The one who turned into a Knight of Hell.

Who tortured souls in hell. 

But he was still your Dean. 

He never scared you. Never could either.

“Moron. I’ve seen you naked, Dean. I’ve seen white stuff come out of your dick. I’ve seen you vomit. I’ve seen you bleed. I’ve even seen you cry. A bit of shit isn’t gonna make me turn the other way and leave forever”, you assured, stroking his cheek, before gripping the back of his neck.

“Now, **_bend over so I can wipe your butt_**, my big baby”, you teased, making Dean blush.

He nodded, his head on your stomach as you wiped his butt, making sure it was completely clean before flushing and helping him up.

You washed your hands, taking him back to the bedroom, leaving to make him some food.

Of course, your burgers were nowhere near as good as Dean’s, but he put on a show, acting as though they were the best thing he’d ever tasted.

He really was the sweetest man you’d ever met.

Unfortunately, once he needed to go to the bathroom again, the fried food making it smell even worse, you prayed desperately to Cas, even Crowley, begging the demon to bring your angel home. 

None of them arrived, much to your dismay. But you powered through.

It seemed the need to clean his ass up made you closer.

Dean was a hell of a lot more comfortable around you.

But sometimes, he took it too far.

It was after he completely healed, that you were taking a shit, when the door to the bathroom swung open.

Dean sauntered in while you scrambled to hide yourself, covering any gaps in the toilet so no smell would escape.

“What the hell, Dean!”

He looked at you, innocent and scared as to why you were yelling at him, brushing his teeth at the same time.

“Whhhha?” he asked, his words scramble from the toothbrush.

“You can’t just come in when I’m…”

He got the message, but began laughing, spitting out the toothpaste.

“Weren’t you the one who said I shouldn’t be embarrassed?”

You groaned.

“There’re different rules, Dean. You were injured. And it’s weird, you seeing me”.

He shrugged, walking towards you and kneeling.

“Eh, I’ve fucked you up the ass. Hell, I’ve eaten your ass out. Nothing’s gonna bother me anymore. Want me to wipe up for you?” he asked, a cocky grin on his face.

You pushed his face, scowling at him as Dean fell back onto the floor, holding his hands up.

“Ok! Ok! I’ll leave”, he chuckled, getting up and walking to the door.

You shook your head as you watched him, glad you had him in your life, even if he was a little moron. 


End file.
